The Princess and the Bodyguard
by TitaniaSarys
Summary: Natasha, heir to the Russian fortune of the Romanovs, finally agrees to let Clint choose a personal bodyguard for her. And it happens to be Steve.
1. Meeting Her

"Alright, Mr. Rogers, before we arrive, I need to get over some things with you," Maria Hill said without even looking at the man next to her in the back of the car.

The fact that the car was armored proved to Steve that this new client was serious when it came to security which made him wonder if something had happened to require that kind of protection or if they didn't know what to do with their money. But seeing that he had been hired for a personal bodyguard position, he guessed the former.

"Ms. Romanoff wasn't fond at first of the idea of having a shadow follow her around."

"What made her change her mind?" Steve asked while he observed Maria who still wasn't looking at him. Her phone and the files that sat on her knees seemed more important.

"She was attacked two nights ago during her usual stroll through the park."

Steve nodded but didn't ask more for now. He had been briefed about the identity of his new client, broadly knew her story but waited to meet her personally to assess her personality and see for himself if she truly was the woman described in the tabloids as the "sexiest ice queen of 2019". He himself didn't read tabloids, he didn't even read the paper, but his buddy Bucky took a perverse pleasure in reading him the lewdest articles in order to bother him.

"Just keep in mind that this bodyguard idea wasn't her own, so she might seem cold or bossy, especially since she isn't fond of letting strangers in her personal affairs. But with the rest of her private staff we have gone over all the bodyguards available and you seemed to be the one best qualified for the job. Thank you again for agreeing to start on such short notice."

Steve smiled slightly, nodded politely but didn't say anything, letting Hill continue.

"Ms. Romanoff has a tight schedule that she will try to abide to under all circumstances, even if it rains, snows or hails. Her theater is her priority. Once we arrive I will introduce you to the other members of the staff. You already know Mr. Coulson if I am not mistaken?" The dark-haired woman looked at him questioningly.

"I had the opportunity to speak to him on the phone but I have never met him. I do know Mr. Fury personally though."

It was Maria's turn to nod.

"Yes, Phil Coulson represents Nick Fury when it comes to anything related to foreign affairs and important events. Mr. Fury would be overseeing the matters personally if he could."

Steve nodded again.

"You will have to discuss certain things with Phil occasionally since Ms. Romanoff likes to take part in social events organized around town, especially Stark's parties." Steve detected bitterness in Hill's voice at the mention of the billionaire's name and figured there was a story behind it.

"We will be working together closely since I am Ms. Romanoff's personal assistant." They were arriving because Hill looked through the window and smiled back at Steve. "It's a pleasure to have you on the team, Mr. Rogers."

"Likewise," Steve said before looking through the window as well.

The Romanoff manor was smaller than all the rich manors Steve had seen in his life. It had three floors and too many windows to count. Although it didn't seem to possess a pool or anything of the sort, a nice garden circled the back of the manor. When Steve climbed out of the car, a dozen different smells assaulted his nose, various flowers and sweet fruit, most of which he didn't recognize.

Maria smiled at him as though she knew what he was thinking and led him towards the entrance, a double oak doors mounted on three marble steps. Maria introduced him to Mr. Isaiah Ross the butler and Mrs. Anna Smirnova the head maid. A couple other people worked for Ms. Romanoff, like Mr. Yevgieny Smirnov the cook who was Anna's husband but Steve didn't see more staff members.

"Mr. Ross will show you around in a couple of minutes. On the ground floor you can find what Ms. Romanoff calls the social quarters, including her tea parlor, the ball room and others rooms used during parties as well as the kitchen and garage. On the second floor are her more private rooms like the dance studio, the dining room and a couple guest rooms. If the staff needs to stay at the manor overnight, they will be able to sleep in one of those rooms, Ms. Romanoff insists. Then the top floor consists of her own private quarters," Maria said all of this very fast, leaving Steve speechless. "Of course, there are other rooms, but this will give you an idea of the degree of privacy Ms. Romanoff applies to different parts of her property."

They were greeted in the entrance hall by a man wearing some kind of tactical gear but without the bulletproof vest and other protective gear. The stranger eyed Steve up and down with a sour face before extending his hand. From the way he was holding himself and the many scars that littered his bare arms, Steve guessed that man had seen some action.

"Hi, I'm Clint Barton, head of security for Ms. Romanoff," the man said.

"Steve Rogers, the new bodyguard."

"I've seen your resume Rogers," Clint continued once they shook hands. His handshake was firm and a little threatening as if Clint was trying to intimidate Steve. It almost seemed as if Clint was just waiting for Steve to screw up. "It's impressive."

"Thank you Sir."

"Call me Clint, or Barton. I'm not my father."

Steve nodded and all three of them walked upstairs and stopped on the second floor.

"Right this way," Maria said and led them through a set of corridors. Steve couldn't help but appreciate the subtle way everything in the manor seemed to be harmonized with the rest. How the marble stairs encircling the entrance hall and climbing all the floors belonged with the crystal chandelier. How the wooden panels covering most walls on the second floor seemed to fit just right in with the various paintings he could see, most of them showing nature and sceneries. Just from one glance he knew that whoever had designed the manor's interior had a keen eye for art and beauty.

Maria stopped in front of a door that was slightly ajar and asked them to wait. A feminine voice could be heard from inside the room, sultry and deep with a perfect American accent. The owner of the voice seemed to be arguing with someone and her voice remained even although the threat hidden in the inflexions was as clear as day.

When Maria knocked on the door, the voice dismissed the other person and the _bip_ of a hung up phone could be heard before she invited them in. Maria went first, followed by Clint, before she introduced Steve.

"Natasha, this is Steve Rogers."

Steve stepped into the room, his hands by his side. He had decided to wear one of his best practical suits, the kind that he could easily move in but that wasn't fancy enough for a cocktail party or such big event. The room he entered was an office nicely furnished with a lot of deep green touches, such as the carpet or the cushions. Even the curtains were that color. Ms. Romanoff stood behind her mahogany desk and was placing books back into one of the three giant bookshelves that covered entirely the back wall.

Clint sat on the couch in the other half of the room, pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher that stood on top of the liquor cabinet. Natasha finished putting all her books back before she walked towards Steve and extended her hand just like Clint had.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Rogers."

She didn't smile and her tone was neutral, all business-like.

"Likewise, but please call me Steve."

"Then you can call me Natasha."

She finally smiled at him and her handshake was firm but gentle. Everything about her seemed professional, from the way she was dressed in a tight black pencil skirt with matching heels and a red blouse to the way she held herself, her calm posture that radiated power and confidence at the same time. Her wavy red hair cascaded to the right side and was clipped with a dark green hairgrip.

"Are you ready to start working Steve?" Natasha asked while she grabbed her phone and went to sit next to Clint who playfully shoved her knee. In response she punched him in the shoulder and it seemed it had genuinely hurt him.

"Yes ma'am."

Clint snorted at the formality.

"Good, then Isaiah can show you around and then if you have the time, you can discuss security protocols with Clint. I want to leave in half an hour; I have a meeting in town."

Steve nodded. He was also the driver and so he followed Clint outside. He had this habit of observing his client to notice their relationships in order to intervene quickly if something went wrong. There was this one time where he had been hired to escort an ambassador and his wife on a trip overseas for a week. A friend of the couple was accompanying them and after one too many drinks he had tried to get his way with the wife when the husband wasn't there. Steve knew his place and when to intervene or not. And the wife clearly seemed uncomfortable and from her body language Steve had guessed that it wasn't the first time it happened. He had quickly intervened and prevented the situation from escalating and the wife thanked him later so did the husband while their friends was taken care of.

He had seen the signs that Clint and Natasha were really close. They were good friends for sure, but maybe they were something more. It wasn't Steve's place to judge but he made a mental note to keep an eye on Clint just in case. After all, he had been hired to protect Natasha and that meant protecting her even from her own staff if need be.

Once Steve familiarized himself with the car he would be driving most of the time, Isaiah showed him around but Steve didn't have time to talk protocols with Clint because Natasha and Maria joined them in the entrance hall thirty minutes later.

"Did you brief him?" Natasha asked Clint.

"Not yet."

Steve was expecting her to get angry or at least disappointed but she simply shrugged. "Alright. You'll have time for that in the evening. Right now, we need to meet with the Odinsons, they're expecting us." Unlike the other dames for whom Steve had worked before, Natasha didn't wait for him to open the door, she just opened it herself, Maria following closely behind. Clint actually laughed at Steve's dumbfounded face.

"Come on Rogers! I'm not going to wait for you so if you don't get your ass in the car now, I'm driving myself into town!" Natasha yelled from outside.

Steve quickly exited the manor and didn't see Isaiah shaking his head and sighing at the same time as if something like this had happened before. Natasha was halfway down the path leading to her car and Steve almost ran to get to it first and open her door for her. Thankfully, he was faster than her and she seemed pleasantly surprised.

"Ma'am," he said, bowing his head slightly and she patted him on the arm in approval. Clint threw him one of those 'I'm watching you' glances before he left them in another car and Maria waited until the door was closed to speak.

"Tomorrow, you'll know exactly how her schedule looks like, so you'll know when and where you have to go, who comes with you and all of that. I'll prepare all the documents you'll need." Steve nodded. They had already signed all the necessary papers even though Steve was used to being asked for work at the last minute. "I'm not going with you this time," Maria then added. "Don't worry, the meeting with the Odinsons will take most of the morning. She'll probably want to get to know you better over lunch so be ready for a plethora of questions."

Steve nodded again and watched Maria leave, her heels clacking behind her. Once he sat in the car and checked everything he needed to check, he looked in the rearview mirror only to find two intense green eyes observing him.

"Where to ma'am?" he said, gulping.

Natasha smiled again.

"You can drop the ma'am, Steve."

"Yes ma'am."

She laughed this time and Steve couldn't help but find the laugh endearing and beautiful at the same time.

"To the art gallery on fifth. I'm meeting the Odinson brothers this morning."


	2. Meeting the Odinsons

Steve was proud to call himself a calm driver. Whether he was driving his own bike or a car during a job, he always drove with peace and according to the rules, although if the situation demanded it, he could break a few rules here and there. He didn't like it, but he knew it was sometimes necessary if someone's life was in danger (generally, his client's).

So he wasn't nervous to drive a new car. He knew that brand but not the model and it took him a dozen minutes to get used to this specific car. But Natasha didn't say anything when he came to a stop at a red light more harshly than he intended. In fact, she didn't raise her eyes from her phone for the first half of the trip, clearly focused on something important. When Maria called her, Steve detected in Natasha's voice a softness she seemed to have for all her staff, as if they were a part of her family or they had earned her everlasting respect in some way. Steve knew, just from the tone of her voice and the various lilts that she would move heaven and earth to help the ones she cared deeply for.

"How well do you know New York, Steve?" Natasha suddenly asked.

"Pretty well."

"So you wouldn't get lost if I asked you to take the next left so we don't get caught in the traffic around the bridge?"

Steve smiled as he looked at her in the rearview mirror. "No I wouldn't". Then he turned left and saw her smiled back at him.

From then, Natasha put her phone down and sat in a more relaxed way, slightly less guarded than they way she was before. Steve couldn't help but occasionally glance at her through the mirror and it slightly unnerved him to see her smirking and looking at him as if she was trying to read his very soul.

So he did his best to keep his eyes on the road.

Surprisingly, she didn't say anything during the rest of the ride and Steve only asked where she wanted him to park the car. "Alright," Natasha said when Steve killed the engines. She let the silence of the underground parking lot belonging to the art gallery engulf them for a couple of seconds before she grabbed her phone and put it in her purse. "I'm meeting the Odinson brothers and then we'll get lunch together. Do you have a preference for the place? Because I know this excellent Ukrainian place downtown…"

"It sounds lovely," Steve smiled and turned towards her.

"Ukrainian it is. Come on, let's not keep them waiting."

Of course, she didn't wait for him to get out of the car although Steve wanted to open the door for her. His mother made sure he was taught some manners before she passed away and he would never shame her by forgetting what she taught him. But Natasha made it particularly difficult to be a gentleman when she was running a hundred miles an hour all the time. He didn't know her well enough yet to assume she was always like that, but he had the feeling he wasn't wrong.

Reminding himself that his job was to protect her, he quickly got to her level after locking the car and opened the door of the parking lot for her after checking that no imminent threat was waiting for them inside. From what Maria had told him, Natasha had only been attacked at night in a park, so he wasn't expecting anything to happen but still. Better safe than sorry, especially since he didn't know the whole story. And he wanted to hear it from Natasha herself. Maria had told him a great deal about who might be targeting her employer, but he had yet to know the reason why, who they were exactly and what means they had. But he guessed that for the first day, it would do, especially since nothing had happened since the attack in the park which left Natasha more unnerved than hurt.

So Steve kept his eyes open and led her into the elevator where she took over, pressing the button for the second floor where the brothers should be waiting for them.

"Relax," she said after a while. Her gaze was fixed on a point somewhere in front of her and her expression was neutral, her hands joined and holding her purse in front of her in a professional manner but still making her radiate confidence.

"It's just a business meeting. Nothing's going to happen," she said.

Her lips quirked slightly into the beginning of a smile before she stepped out of the elevator. Steve didn't even notice they had arrived and followed her out into the hall of the second floor.

Natasha walked through the hall, passing by glass sculptures and strange objects on display. She completely ignored the ones that baffled Steve in their splendor or originality and walked straight to the only door at the end of the room. She knocked twice and waited.

It didn't take long for heavy footsteps to be heard, approaching at a fast pace from behind the door. The next second, the tallest man Steve had ever seen appeared.

"Lady Natasha! It's so good to see you!" he boomed and wrapped her in a bear hug. Steve lunged forward, instincts kicking in, but was stop short by Natasha's flat palm against his chest. Steve's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion but he waited and saw after a couple of seconds that the man wasn't crushing her to death, rather holding her tenderly, almost lovingly as if she was a long lost friend or one of his glass sculptures.

"It's good to see you too, Thor," she said once she extracted herself from his big buff arms, the muscles barely concealed by the light cerulean shirt he wore. Now that the imminent threat seemed to be over Steve took a better look at the man. His long blonde beard was neatly trimmed and braided while his hair was tied in an elegant man bun. His clothes didn't exactly scream expensive but rather seemed to be related to some kind of Norse culture Steve knew nothing about. At least he thought he recognized some of the runes embroidered around the collar and sleeves of his shirt.

"Please, do come into our office," the tall man said and moved to the side to let them in.

The office seemed to be a continuation of the hall, but with more paintings than sculptures. One entire wall was made of glass, showing the city and especially the skyscrapers surrounding them. Two giant glass desks stood on opposite sides of the office and belonged to very different people from what Steve could see displayed on them.

One was neatly organized and was almost shining in the light pouring through the glass wall while the other seemed less clinical with the occasional trinkets and pictures as well as an overwhelming amount of red office supplies while the sober desk only had black and white things on it.

The dark haired man sitting behind the organized desk was leaning back in his massive leather chair, his feet propped up on the corner of his desk. A cigarette holder was daintily held between his long fingers and he let out the occasional puff of smoke, much to Thor's distaste since he waved at the air when he passed by him and asked him to smoke outside.

"It's also my office. I can smoke in here," the man said with an accent that Steve couldn't quite place that was more pronounced than Thor's.

"Take your feet off the desk," Thor then said while he led Natasha and Steve towards a couple of couches in the center of the room before he brought sweets and asked them if they wanted to drink something.

"It's my desk," the dark haired man replied. His face was precisely shaved and his eyes seemed to observe everything. He wore similar clothes to Thor's but his were much more elegant and plain, with very little embroideries and with a slight splash of color which was a deep green bowtie. "Good morning Romanoff," he said to Natasha with a slight nod of the head.

"Good morning, Odinson."

"Would you like some vodka my dear friend?" Thor asked Natasha when she was sat and he showed her a bottle which made her smile. Steve wondered if it was her favorite brand or if this bottle held a special meaning.

"Maybe something lighter. I still have a whole day of work to go through and nothing I wish to forget yet." Thor nodded sadly at that as if this was a conversation they had one too many times. Or maybe he just understood what it meant.

So instead of standing there in the middle of the room and looking like the third wheel to a conversation between old friends, Steve moved to stand behind the couch Natasha was sitting on. She nodded at him then looked at Thor.

"Boys, I would like you to meet my bodyguard, Mr. Steve Rogers. He will be escorting me to my various meetings from now on."

Loki stood up and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting the last of the ash in the heavy glass tray on his desk. "And here I was hoping to be able to get a one-on-one with you after this meeting," he said suggestively.

Steve looked at Natasha. He didn't know how she wanted to handle the situation, if she wanted him to intervene at all. They hadn't discussed this kind of thing yet but fortunately he didn't have to wait long: she simply smiled, brushed it off as a joke (which it might have been but Steve didn't know this Loki well enough) and completely ignored his comment.

Thor on the other hand glared at his brother and handed Natasha a glass of white wine before turning to Steve. "Would you like something to drink, Mr. Rogers?"

"A glass of water would be nice."

Thor nodded, brought him what he asked for and sat down on the couch opposite Natasha while Loki took a seat on the armchair on her left, far enough so he could busy himself with something else if he wished but close enough to seem included in the conversation.

After a beat, Steve also allowed himself to sit in an armchair a little on the side, giving him a full view of the room and the two doors (the entrance and the one for emergencies), as well as the glass wall. He could also clearly see Natasha and looking at either Thor or Loki wouldn't be difficult if he slightly turned his head. They were all good.

"By the way, we have recently acquired a painting that you will like, I'm sure," Thor said before he took a sip of his beer. "A Chagall."

Natasha smiled politely.

"You know Thor, not all Russian things interest me."

"But I know what you like and what you are looking for, Lady Natasha. I think you'll like this one."

Her smile turned genuine and Steve was surprised to see softness in it. It felt as if her and Thor were good long-standing friends.

"We'll see. You'll have to show me later."

Thor nodded. "Now, about your next show." He looked at her then at Loki then at her again.

When Natasha spoke, she was looking at both brothers. "In two months my theater will present _The Stone Flower_ by Prokofiev for the first time. And for this specific ballet, I would like to do something different for the set design."

She looked specifically at Loki then, her stare piercing and sharp like the edge of an assassin's knife.

"I was wondering if you would be interested in helping me with the design of the scenography. I saw your sculptures Loki, I know what you can do and I think your style would be a good fit for my ballet."

"I don't usually paint," he replied, but the glint of curiosity in his eyes indicated that he was considering the offer.

"But you have the skills, I know you do. You could pull this off."

"I would need supplies. A lot of it. And assistants. A whole scenography is not some meager task that can be prepared in one night."

"And I appreciate your perfectionism. Of course, you'd be provided with everything you'd need for this job. So, are you interested?"

Loki smiled devilishly. "I'll have to think about it."

Natasha nodded and they spent the rest of the morning negotiating the terms of this potential contract. Although Loki reminded her that he hadn't decided yet, he kept adjusting the terms with her, talking about ideas and possible designs at the same time.

Steve spent that time watching them and especially Natasha. It was something else entirely to see her professionally answer calls and organize her events and then see her negotiate something that she clearly cared deeply for. Being an artist (although modest) himself he was particularly interested in seeing her theater and he wondered if he would be able to watch this performance. Since he was her bodyguard and was supposed to follow her to all her errands and events, he would probably attend the show.

The rest of the morning quickly went by and after another coffee, Natasha turned to Thor to ask him to show her the Chagall painting before she left for lunch. She thanked Loki for his time, promised to send him a draft of the contract in three days and that she would be expecting his answer at the beginning of the next week along with a list of the needed supplies, means and the assistants he wanted to have. She was adamant about him choosing them since this kind of art was his domain of expertise.

Natasha wasn't impressed with the painting but reassured Thor that it was the real thing and not a fake (the Odinson brothers had unfortunately bought fake paintings in the past). She didn't want to buy it, but she advised him to keep it in their personal collection, not the one they were planning on showing in the spring because it didn't really fit in the theme of love and beauty they wanted to have for the next exhibition.

When all was said and done, Thor walked with them to the elevator, kissed Natasha's hand and wished them a good day. Once again, Natasha remained silent until they reached the car then she gave Steve the address to the Ukrainian place she knew and instructed him on the parking place.


End file.
